The Library
by FanFicLove101
Summary: Ok, so another little one shot fanfic from yours truly :  R&R please!


_I own nothing to do with Harry Potter or its characters!_

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**The Library.**

I hate, hate, _hate_ sticky fingerprints on the pages of my books. I specifically request some children to show me their hands before they even set foot in the library. No licking of fingers here, thank you very much; each page of a book should fold out neatly of its own accord, without a young witch or wizard slathering it with spittle. I could sit here all day; _correction_, I **do **sit here all day, reading, checking out books, reading, checking in books, reading, checking children's grubby fingers, reading...

And I love it.

I fear I would not have it any other way. I find peace and security in the solitude of the library; its stillness and silence allowing me to relax and reflect on things. I very rarely join the teachers in the staff room for afternoon tea; the chairs are awfully uncomfortable and everyone seems to talk so loudly. The staff sit in a large circle of chairs, each facing the other, laughing and bantering. I wince, popping a finger to my ear making it seem I have an itch, but really I am massaging my aching ear-drum that's at its wits end with me putting up with the volume.

Rolanda sits opposite, making her thin lipped, coy smile at me. She jerks her head lightly to the door, raising her eyebrows as she does. Her arms are led on the rests, her fingertips curling over the edges and rapping steadily on the hard, oak wood. Her legs are set apart, feet firmly on the ground, and she is led back in a boyish position. I sit up straighter still, onto the edge of the chair, where my legs drop to one side and I place my hands gently into my lap. I make widened eyes at her, shaking my head subtly, knowing we couldn't leave the room without being unnoticed.

You see, Rolanda is my lover.

But she always had enjoyed the exhilaration of getting caught, even as a child when we attended Hogwarts, although we were never lovers back then. She jerks her head again in exactly the same way, a smug smile coming to her face. I look to the door that now seems miles away and back at Rolanda, whom is still watching me with an eager eye. Suddenly, she speaks, without a movement on her face, her smile still the same.

"Irma, I wondered if you could you show me your book? Only, I've been dying to get my fingertips on it and open it up wide, perhaps even finish it off..."

My eyes widen even more so, horrified by the evident insinuation and sure everyone would notice. I clear my throat and look toward the rest of the teachers for approval to be excused as I begin to stand. Luckily, Poppy interjects with something about her medicines, turning the attention. Rolanda is already at the door smiling broadly, her yellow eyes looking deeply into mine, opening it allowing me to step through first. I walk the corridor without waiting for her, hearing her close the door and run behind me to catch up.

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"I just wanted to get you away; I know it hurts your ears when it's too loud..."

Rolanda says innocently, sat on my desk and swinging her legs. I stand at the other side of my office, my arms folded and tapping my foot. I know she means well, so I drop my angry facade and smile sweetly.

Rolanda looks to the window, the suns' rays beating down on her silver hair. I know she is agitated; she longs to be outside. We are opposites, Rolanda and I; I enjoy the indoor, she enjoys the outdoor. It's as simple as that really. We very rarely see each other, neither one of us prepared to give up the worlds that we find so comforting, nor expecting the other to, even though I care for her very much. It scares me, the outdoors, and the indoors makes her feel trapped.

I walk toward her in an attempt to get her attention again, but to no avail.

"You don't have to stay. Go, be outside Rolanda." I smile.

She looks at me, with that coy smile again, and walks towards the door to leave. I sit behind my desk, sighing with an empty feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach. I hear the door lock and Rolanda's footsteps returning to me.

"Not until I've got my hand on that book of yours."

Deviance in her voice, she slowly walks behind me, knowing this makes me shiver in anticipation. I hold my breath steady, just, as she lowers her lips an inch from my neck, where I can feel her warm breath on my skin. She growls quietly, delving hungrily onto my neck with sucking kisses of obviously long awaited passion. My mouth hangs open to inhale sharply at the pain and pleasure currently being applied to my neck, unable to breath due to the extreme pressure Rolanda is sucking on me. She finally releases herself and hums in contentment; a massive welt on my neck, no doubt. But I am hers, and she knows it. She asks me to stand by gently pulling on my shoulder, taking me by the waste and kissing me fervently.

Rolanda kisses gently; I never did care much for tongueing. She'll lick my lips and the tip of our tongues will touch as she smiles, which makes me grin stupidly too. One of her hands gently falls to my bottom, mine placed firmly on her breasts; as she squeezes, so do I.

Rolanda moans quietly, insisting she must have me now, and backs me up onto my desk. She buries herself in my neck, kissing gently and tenderly as I release the clasp to her heavy outdoor robes. She lets them fall from her; a grey waist coat sits smartly atop a crisp white shirt and stiff collar, the Hogwarts tie proudly worn. I giggle as I see her flying goggles still attached to her head.

Swiftly she hitches up my velvet skirt and presses her hand against my centre, cupping me and making me moan loudly. I begin to rock onto her palm, desperate now for any friction offered to my excited organ.

"God, I love you." She whispers, as her fingers slide slowly into me.

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She's left already, Rolanda. She never does stick around for long, but this is just her way. Seduce, make love, and on your broom. Rolanda always feels she makes herself too sensitive if she allows her emotions to get the better of her, so she never stays around enough to think that long. She will be back, I know, with the heart I love and yearn for. I'll sit in my library, waiting for the day she decides she can be without me no longer. Sometimes I venture outside, only for her to bring me to the library to make love to me, but she is much more brave and ballsy than I; that is why I love her.

They same opposites attract: I enjoy the indoor, she enjoys the outdoor. It's as simple as that really.

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_A/N: Hope it was ok_


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